


Nothing on You

by notoriously



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Cute, Don't tell him with words, M/M, Marauders, Sirius is broody and Remus is Done, Tell him in song, and James Peter and Lily are along for the ride, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notoriously/pseuds/notoriously
Summary: Sirius Black is completely screwed. His band, Managing Mischief, is playing a school formal and can barely pull together a full gig’s worth of music. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s got songwriter’s block which only seems to go away when Remus Lupin gives him a hand.





	Nothing on You

* * *

  

 ** _25 th November – _ ** _Haven’t written anything good in weeks. The boys are trying to help but are about as useless as I am right now. Creativity and cash are at an all time low. Maybe I can write a song about being broke? - S_

 

Sirius Black, lead singer of the relatively newly-formed band Managing Mischief did not like writer’s block. Not one bit. And honestly, his fellow band members (see: his old school mates) didn’t like it either, because he was insufferable when he had it.

“What rhymes with _tongue?_ ” Sirius asked, and the tallest member of their band currently tuning his guitar looked up, blinking slowly. Their bassist, a shorter blond, started listing things off.

“Well, there’s lung. Sung? There’s also dung –“

“Peter –“

“Kung, as in kung fu –“

“ _Peter –_ “

“Brung? Is that a word? Like, _I brung some food to the pic-_ “

“ _Brought,_ Peter,” Remus Lupin cut in for a third time, muttering something unsavoury under his breath. Peter blinked up at him just as he looked to Sirius. “And we’re _not_ having a song that features tongues in any huge capacity.”

“Just ‘cause _your_ life might not involve tongue in any huge capacity doesn’t mean our songs can’t, Moony,” Sirius remarked. There were many fables at to just where Sirius had picked up that particular nickname for Remus – the most popular of which was that Remus had been afraid of the dark as a child, but his mother had told him the moon was a giant night light there to keep him safe from the dark. There were other rumours, like Remus was secretly a werewolf, but considering that he could barely stomach a horror movie, that seemed preposterous. Whatever the story, the name stuck, and he was used to it by this point. Remus’ face barely had time to contort into an offended expression when the ever familiar _ba-dum-tss_ of the drum set behind them sounded out. Peter snorted, and James Potter pointed a drumstick at him with a grin.

“Peter gets me,” he remarked, leaning up to tighten one of his cymbals. Peter nodded, and he was about to tighten one of the strings on his bass when he noticed James motioning towards the other members of their band covertly. Peter’s eyes flicked to see Sirius and Remus still staring at one another. After a few more moments, James cleared his throat, and two things happened in unison. Remus swung around abruptly to look at James, nearly knocking a mug off one of the surfaces in the Potters’ basement, their makeshift rehearsal space. Sirius, on the other hand, turned away from James, smacking his face on the microphone he’d been plugging in when the conversation started.

“ _Bloody hell,_ James, you _git,_ ” Sirius hissed, and James’ eyes widened from behind his wire-framed glasses.

“I didn’t force you to smack your head!” James replied, staring at Sirius who had his hand cupped over his eye.

“You might as well have! God, you _absolute tit,_ what if that leaves a bruise?”

“You’ll just cover it up! That’s right, I _know_ you use concealer!”

“How do you know it’s called _concealer,_ James, if you don’t use it t –“

“Can you two _shut it?!_ ” Peter yelled, holding up his mobile phone which was chirping an irritating tune. “I think this is that school!” The four all looked at each other, James standing from the stoop he’d been sitting on.

“Answer it, _answer it_!” he cried, and Remus shot him a glare.

“Shut up and _let_ him answer it, James!” Remus added, and as James’ words fell to a hush, Peter answered his phone.

“Hello? Yeah – sorry, _yes_ , this is Peter,” he corrected himself – Mrs Pettigrew always told him to speak properly, especially when it came to important conversations. “Yes, we’re _absolutely_ still free that Friday night. Well, we’re sorry to hear that, but of course we can help you out… Excellent! Yes, absolutely, we can set everything up ourselves.” At mention of that, Sirius turned around, rolling his eyes. They certainly weren’t an established enough band to have roadies, which meant they would have to do all the moving. James noticed Sirius’ eye roll, and caught Remus’ attention so he would notice too. The two of them then looked at one another, shaking their heads. _They_ knew the truth – Sirius would spend so much time whining about having to move things that by the time he had finished, his three fellow band members would have already done it all. Remus gave a small smirk at James’ head shake, and once he’d finished up his own he looked to Peter, who was off the phone.

“Good news, I presume?” he asked. Peter grinned, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“No, _great_ news,” he nodded, puffing his chest out proudly. “Managing Mischief is _headlining_ the event of the year – the Saint Brutus’ school disco.”

 

* * *

 

 **_27 th November – _ ** _Booked this gig without half the songs we need to play the full thing. Also we’ve never played for an audience of teenagers. They’re mean and they smell bad. I blame Peter entirely if this goes wrong. - S._

 

Sirius, Remus, James and Peter were thrilled about their upcoming gig, mainly because it was finally a paid one. It wasn’t their first gig, but it was certainly the first one they were getting reimbursed for. They had played at pubs here and there, but the payment for that was usually a free meal and a drink. Don’t get them wrong – they were _incredibly_ grateful for the hot dinner, but money was even better. However, the impending disco was only two weeks away, and they needed to entertain the high schoolers for ninety glorious minutes. Their gigs before this had gone for _maybe_ half an hour, at a stretch. Sirius still had the most severe writer’s block of his life, which he had been trying to cure by laying down on James’ parents’ old couch as if he was coming down with a case of the vapours. This usually turned into a nap, which usually turned into James drawing on Sirius’ face, which resulted in Sirius waking up, seeing what James had done and having a strop at him. It all put the singer and drummer out of commission as far as song writing went, so that responsibility fell on Remus and Peter’s shoulders. The latter was stood, plucking absentmindedly at his bass as Remus attempted to play out a melody.

“Mmm, mmm,” Peter began, nodding his head to the beat and starting to let words formulate in his head, “ _ooh, I want her to know me… ooh, I want her to show me… ooh, yeah, I want her to b –“_

Remus abruptly stopped strumming, and Peter’s lips pursed for a moment before uncurling, not voicing his final words.

“At least I’m _trying,_ ” Peter huffed, tuning up one of his bass strings, “we need _romantic_ songs for a disco. I mean, our stuff’s pretty good, but no-one’s gonna have a snog to it, are they?” Remus frowned but then sighed in turn, resigned to the fact that Peter was right. Managing Mischief had a sound that matched their name – it was _fun._ Their lyrics were usually as cheeky as their charming lead singer, and in the face of a world that hadn’t been the kindest to any of them, their music was upbeat, positive and irreverent. Great for a solid three-quarters of a disco, but not so great for the awkward shuffle that was the teenage slow dance. Remus turned his attention to James, who was glancing between a sleeping Sirius and an adjacent permanent marker.

“James, how about instead of being a nuisance, you give us a hand?” Remus asked, the irritation seeping through into his voice. James rolled his eyes, folding his arms.

“Can’t you see I’m _busy,_ Remus? God,” James set his attentions back on the marker, but Remus cleared his throat loudly.

“You, by some miracle, are the only one of us to have a partner. So,” Remus urged, motioning with his hands, “surely you can help us out with some writing. Considering Sleeping Beauty over there is being his usual, useful self.” He glanced at Sirius, who snored and screwed up his nose for a moment before settling with a smack of his lips. Remus gave a heaving sigh, bringing a hand up to massage at the bridge of his nose. “We’re _stuffed._ ” James took one look at Remus and lumbered over to him, pushing some papers out of the way on a nearby table and plopping himself down.

“Well, considering right now the only song we’d be able to write is _We’re A Bunch Of Sad, Sorry Gits,_ maybe you do need my help,” he relented, and Remus barely withheld another eye roll.

“Mmhm, it’s almost as if I’ve been saying that for the last fifteen minutes,” he added with a raised eyebrow. James snorted and went to lean back a little, choosing to ignore the snarky comments of his band mate.

“Right, well. Lily’s a good one to write a song about. Lots rhymes with Lily –“ James began, and Peter chimed up from beside the other two.

“And even if it didn’t, you’ve got the regular rhyme master here,” he crowed, proudly, rocking back and forth on his feet. Remus looked slightly dubious at the two of them, however.

“… How about we _don’t_ focus on rhyme? Not all songs rhyme,” he asserted. James narrowed his eyes for a moment before they widened abruptly. He started to tap on the table, nodding his head to an inaudible rhythm. Peter swung his bass around so he could start playing a few basic notes in time with James’ movements. Eventually, James’ rhythm turned into words.

“ _Lily…”_ The first word came out quietly, but his head nodding was consistent and strong. Peter was getting even more into his playing, and even Remus let a small glimmer of hope break through his expression. “ _Lily, L-I-L-Y, Lily… Luh-luh-luh-luh-Lily…”_

Remus’ look of hope dissipated immediately.

“James, that… is already a song.”

He tried to break the news gently, but it had James sitting bolt upright. Peter played one last off-key note as he looked to Remus, then to James. For a moment, it looked like the drummer was going to argue. Instead, he smirked, then snorted.

“Okay, yeah, fair call, mate,” James managed, before letting out a little laugh.

Peter was the next to snicker, and it all had Remus starting to smile.

Only a few seconds later, James was _absolutely losing it._

He knocked some of the papers off the table as he slammed his hand down in his laughter. Peter, always one to catch contagious laughter, was laughing loudly at this point too, shaking his head and wheezing _it’s already a song you great tit_ between chuckles. Eventually, Remus could keep up his serious demeanour no more, laughing and letting a hand come up to his face. During this Sirius barely stirred at all – Remus couldn’t help but feel a little bad that he hadn’t been involved in their laughter over nothing. He’d make sure to fill in the sleeping singer later. 

* * *

 

 **_30 th November – _ ** _I’ve managed to push through a write a song or two. I’ve got the boys practising them but I’m struggling with anything slower or, god forbid, more romantic. I’m losing sleep trying to work this shit out. I mean, I have ideas, but I can’t write about that. They’d know. – S._

Sirius and James had the most constant access to Managing Mischief’s rehearsal space – it was in James’ parents’ spare room, after all, and Sirius had been living with them since getting booted out of home. But on this particular night, Remus had crashed at the house too – with the Potters, it was the more the merrier, and Peter would have stayed too if he hadn’t promised his mum he’d be home. However, the house lacked beds, and so Remus found himself sleeping on the couch in their rehearsal space. He was the tallest of his friends, and his legs dangled uncomfortably over the arm of the worn lounge. It had kept him awake for quite a while at this point, but slowly, _slowly,_ he was falling asleep.

And then the door to the room opened.

Creaking footsteps made their way across the floor.

Remus cracked open one eye.

_Bloody hell, Sirius._

He kept an eye on the other man, who went to sit down on the floor as quietly as possible, flicking on a small lamp that was beside him. There were all sorts of odd homewares that were kept in with their instruments. Remus silently watched as Sirius pulled a notebook and pen out from underneath a pile of sheet music and discarded song lyrics, holding the writing implement between his teeth as he pulled his hair back and out of his face. He took the pen again, opened the notebook and sighed, poising to write but nothing seemed to come.

“… I know you’re awake, Remus.”

Remus jolted a little, his eyes opening and his breath hitching in his throat for a second before he sat up, swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

“Sorry, I was just… couldn’t sleep,” he added, rubbing at his eyes. Sirius smiled, gesturing to the notebook in front of him.

“I know how that feels,” he replied, standing up and going to sit on the couch as Remus had made room. Remus pulled his blankets towards him to prevent Sirius from sitting on them, but made an attempt to drape them back over the other man once he sat down. Sirius grabbed the blankets, pulling them over his lap with an appreciative nod before turning disappointed eyes back to the notebook.

“… I’m stuck, Moony. We’re still at _least_ three songs short for this disco and we have _nothing_ for those kids to, y’know…” Sirius sighed, waving his hand in front of his face. Remus smirked small.

“Slow dance to?” He gave pause to give a small chuckle. “I didn’t think that was a particularly offensive term.” Sirius took a second to roll his eyes, faking a small retch.

“Oh, come on, Moony, _slow dancing?_ It’s so stuffy, none of them _really_ want to do it – oh, yeah, I think you’re _really_ fit, let’s awkwardly hold each other and take small steps to boring music? _Please._ ” Sirius finished his little rant, and Remus laughed again, sitting back and resting his head against the wall behind the couch.

“The music doesn’t have to be _boring._ Neither does slow dancing,” Remus added, but Sirius was having none of it. He physically scoffed before looking back at his blank page. Then, all of a sudden, he whined, lulling his head from side to side before leaning all his weight against Remus with a huff. Remus sat up a little straighter, glancing sideways at Sirius – _why_ was his breath caught in his throat? Never mind that, _just act normal,_ he told himself. And well, it was as if Sirius read his mind, because he seemed to sit up just as abruptly as Remus had. There was a silence that was _just_ teetering on the edge of awkward, but Sirius broke it, as per usual.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to write some sappy songs that some lovesick teenagers are going to sway to.” Sirius still had the pen poised above the paper, shaking his head small. Remus glanced over.

“Well… pretend you’re not writing it for those teenagers. Write it… write it for someone _you_ can get sappy about,” said Remus, ignoring the slight twinge in his chest that came about when talking about who Sirius might fancy. He imagined men broader, more outgoing and funny than himself, twice as handsome and with far less hang-ups. Remus didn’t know when he started comparing Sirius’ potential love interests with himself – he supposed it might have been the day Sirius came out to all of them, when the pictures in his head turned from busty, sultry blonde women to tall, dark and handsome men.  Remus was _one_ of those things –

Not that it mattered. Because he didn’t fancy Sirius. He didn’t fancy Sirius because Sirius would never fancy him, and that was that.

Sirius broke Remus from his stupor with a nod and the scratching of pen against paper – he was taking notes on Remus’ thoughts, _god._ Remus cleared his throat, reaching up to run a hand through his own hair.

“Does it work for you?” Sirius asked, and Remus started to stammer.

“I – well – I mean, I don’t really write –“

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. Remus sighed in defeat and slumped.

“I mean, I suppose it does. But I just generally pick up the guitar and…” Remus was the one who lifted his hand now, mimicking a strumming motion. Sirius smirked wide.

“You just _jam,_ do you, Moony? You _pluck_ at the strings of inspiration?” Sirius’ smirk was now a grin, and he stood up to walk over to Remus’ guitar on its stand. Remus clambered up after him, but was barely even on his feet when Sirius picked up his instrument. “You just give it the old –“ Sirius strummed the guitar, making a loud, discordant note. Remus strode over to him, placing a hand over the strings to silence them. For some reason or another, though, he couldn’t keep the small smirk off of his face.

“ _Yes,_ I suppose I do,” he managed, taking the guitar from a facetiously smiling Sirius, “but I certainly don’t do it this late at night! You’ll wake the Potters up.”

“And Lily,” Sirius added, a faint look of displeasure on his face leading Remus to look confused.

“Hm? Is Lily here? How do you know?” Remus questioned.

“ _You_ don’t share a wall with James. Half the reason I’m awake, honestly. Sneaks her in, making all sorts of racket, and then they _still_ have the audacity to –“

“You know, on second thought, don’t tell me. Just,” Remus shook his head insistently, “ _don’t_ tell me.” Sirius paused and smirked, shaking his head.

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, going to reach for Remus’ guitar again. He relented, handing it back to him. He watched as Sirius settled it in his arms, strumming again with another smirk. Remus almost reached out to stop him but he quickly – but all too late – realised where Sirius’ mind was going.

“See? Pretty sure if Fleamont and Euphemia can sleep through James and Lily having a shag, they can sleep through some guitar.”

* * *

 

 ** _2 nd December – _ ** _I don’t know what sort of toff school St Brutus’ is, but apparently we have to wear suits for this gig. Suits? Christ. I’m going to look like a tit, but at least the boys will too. Except Remus, I guess, but in order to wear enough tweed to live he has to wear a suit on occasion. Shut the hell up about Moony, Sirius. – S._

“Does my bum look big in this?”

“Massive.”

James turned around, looking aghast at the redhead draped across the one chair in the whole of the small charity shop they were in. Sirius snorted from the rack he was standing at, and Peter craned his head up.

“What bum? You _have_ no bum,” Peter sighed, shaking his head as he rifled through more clothes racks. “Me, on the other hand… how am I supposed to find pants that fit here?”

“You could always get yourself a _charming_ kilt, Peter,” Sirius held up a swathe of tartan, waving it around slowly. Peter muttered something about Sirius being a git but laughed nevertheless, continuing to look through the racks.

“Peter, I’m sure there’s _something,_ ” Lily Evans stood up from her chair, heading over to the rack the shortest man was standing at, “something for _all_ your bums.”

“ _Finally,_ someone who _cares_ about the state of our bums. Lily, you’re Managing Mischief’s official bum manager, how does that sound?” James asked.

“James, mate, you know you can’t just _declare_ Lily manager of everything, right? No offence, Lil,” Sirius remarked, and Lily nodded.

“None taken. It’s true, James, though I’m flattered,” she told him, and he gave a small smile and a nod.

“Alright, alright. So _humble,_ ” James added, shaking his head. Sirius headed over to where James was, in front of the changing cubicle. Sirius whistled low, putting his selections onto the chair Lily had vacated.

“Lily was _right,_ lots to love back here,” Sirius joked, smacking James on the behind playfully, moving him out the way somewhat. James laughed and raised his eyebrows.

“That’s a big compliment coming from Sirius “Great-Arse” Black,” James replied, clicking his tongue. Sirius winked in response before taking his clothes into the changing cubicle. Lily was still rifling through clothes next to Peter, but noticed that Remus in the row in front of them seemed to be frozen. She slowly made her way away from Peter and around to Remus, leaning up and tapping him on the shoulder. He jumped, his hand clamping down on the clothes hanger it happened to be hovering near. He yanked the piece of clothing off the rack as he yelped.

“ _Lily!_ ” he said, all too quickly and loud, giving a small gasp with her name. Lily’s eyes flickered from his frightened face to the garment in his hand.

“… Didn’t know this was your taste, but I think you can make it work.”

“Wh –“ Remus paused to glance down at the garment he was holding. The billowy silk blouse featured a bright flower print. He paused for a moment longer before cracking a small smirk and a little laugh. “Thanks, Lily, but I think it’s a little beyond me.” He made a move to put the blouse back on the rack when Sirius appeared from the changing cubicle, dressed in suit pants and a jacket that looked impossibly tailored to have come from a charity shop. But there he was, standing in a firmly fitting pair of trousers and a suit jacket, smoothing down the lapels at the front.

“Tell me, do I look like a huge berk? _Do_ I?” Sirius asked. Peter glanced up and rolled his eyes, looking through clothes while muttering to the universe, asking if Sirius Black could look bad in _just one outfit, please._

“I mean, you do, but you always look like that. You look like a well dressed berk, now, though,” Lily smirked, and Sirius clicked his tongue.

“Aw, Lil. Too kind,” he replied, before letting his eyes flick to Remus to subtly gauge his reaction. He was met with the taller man holding a blouse, and perhaps not-so-subtly staring at him. There was a moment of silence, on in which Lily, Peter and James all looked up at one another. Sirius was the one who finally broke it.

“… Bit daring, Moony, but I’m into it.” Remus’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

“Sorry, _what?_ ” he asked. Sirius lifted a hand to point at the blouse Remus was still holding, and Remus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“ _Oh!_ Oh, no, I’m not going to – no, I – no,” he managed to laugh, and Sirius smiled in turn with a nod.

“I figured, I figured,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “seriously, though. I look okay?” The other three all looked at one another, hearing a tone in Sirius’ voice that was somewhat unfamiliar. Sirius was known for being aloof, and above everything else, he did not care what other people thought of him. But, for perhaps the first time in a long time, Lily, James and Peter knew he did care what the answer to his question was. He cared what Remus said, and all eyes were on him; they caught the way he swallowed hard and cleared his throat before responding.

“ _Great_ – you look great.”

* * *

 

 ** _5 th December – _ ** _So I wrote a song. A slow song. A romantic song. Something you could slow dance to. Disgusting. There’s no way in hell I can play it. So why am I even bothering learning it? – S._

 

When Remus wasn’t staying at the Potters’ home, he lived in an altogether too-small flat with his father. They had lived there ever since his mother had passed away a few years earlier, but despite his wife’s death and his advancing age Lyall continued to work and would travel to do so. On one hand, Remus knew his dad was too old to be going out and travelling for his work, but on the other hand, he was a twenty-something guy who lived with his parent with the house to himself. He wasn’t going to complain too loudly. Some opportunities didn’t present themselves that regularly, and Remus wasn’t too proud to take advantage of that.

That opportunity was interrupted by a knock on the door, which had him jolting. He was doing that a lot, these days. Setting his laptop to the side and slamming it shut, he had half a mind to just ignore the door. Pretend nobody was home. But the knock came again, this time a louder thump.

“Remus, I know you’re in there! Let me in!”

_Sirius._

_Shit._

“Just a second!” Remus leapt from his seat, neatening up the coffee table in front of him – he wasn’t sure _why,_ Sirius was pretty much the grossest person he knew. Still, he neatened things up a little before glancing in a nearby mirror, neatening himself up a little before going to the door and opening it. And there was Sirius, holding a helmet with an acoustic guitar slung across his shoulders, resting on his back. He was in a leather jacket, as he always wore when he’d ridden his motorcycle, and judging by the way he looked, it had been raining outside. Remus looked like he’d just rolled out of bed for the first time in about a decade. Still, Sirius smiled with that somewhat uncharacteristic warmth he seemed to save for Remus, pushing his way through the door. Remus only just managed to reach back to save the neck of the guitar from crashing into the doorframe, lifting it just in time.

“Oh, shit, thanks mate. I picked this up from that charity shop we were at the other day…” Sirius remarked, pulling the guitar from his back and glancing at it. Remus narrowed his eyes a little.

“Yeah…?” There was a silent _and_ lingering at the end of that sentence, and Sirius couldn’t ignore it.

“… I wrote that last song we needed.” Sirius found his breath hitching in his throat a little, but Remus’ expression brightened.

“Oh? That’s good, right? But… I –“ Remus gestured to the guitar. “I _have_ a guitar here, why’d you bring one?” Sirius paused and sighed, going to sit down beside Remus’ laptop. Remus swiftly swooped in to pick it up, attempting to be as casual as possible. Sirius glanced between the laptop and Remus’ face, and if he wasn’t mildly stressed about the reason he’d come over in the first place, he probably would have put two and two together and given Remus hell. But he was stressed, so he didn’t.

“I know that, you git. I just… I’ve been trying to teach myself this damn song, I… I wrote up some basic chords, but… I don’t know. I just… I think it works best if I play it. _Not_ that you and James and Peter aren’t great, I just…” Sirius gave a shrug as he leaned back against the couch. Remus was pretty used to Sirius having a somewhat strange artistic process, so he shook his head.

“No need to explain. Have you written it out?” Remus asked. “I’ll go grab my guitar and we’ll work it out.” He took a second to duck from the room, leaving with his laptop and coming back with his own guitar, sitting down and making sure it was tuned.

“Oh, shit, can you do that to mine? I don’t think it’s in tune,” Sirius strummed the strings – and his movement was smoother than the last time Remus had seen him playing around with the instrument, but the sound was _atrocious._ He visibly winced, putting his guitar down to reach over for Sirius’. 

“So, what’s the song called?” Remus asked, plucking at the strings and tweaking the pegs at the end of the guitar’s neck.

“Uh…” Sirius seemed hesitant, holding a piece of paper in his hand. Remus looked up, and Sirius outstretched his hand. Remus finished tuning the last string before swapping the guitar for the piece of paper, and he looked down to see a lot of thick, black marker lines. There were small chords above them, but the words and title that may have been there previously were no longer visible.

“… Uh… okay…” And it was true, Remus was familiar with Sirius’ process, but this was even strange for him. But as he looked up and saw that Sirius was looking more than a little uncomfortable, he decided against any questioning.

“I… I think I can play it, I just… I’m not sure if it sounds right. I – I thought maybe I could hum the words or something…” Sirius never sounded this unsure, and the blank expression on Remus’ face reflected that. He huffed small. “Y’know what? Forget about it, this is stupid, I’m an –“

“No, no! It’s fine, you… you play it and hum it. I’ll… listen?” Remus said, and that seemed to settle Sirius a little. He nodded, and settled back with the guitar in his lap, pulling his still slightly damp hair back into a ponytail. Remus watched as he went to hold the guitar, again with much more ease than he’d seen him hold it before, and began to strum and hum a song. It wasn’t perfect, there were a few points where he swore because he messed up but overall, despite the lack of lyrics, Remus was impressed. Once Sirius was done, he strummed one final note and looked up at Remus expectantly.

“… You’re good, Sirius. Really.” Remus gave a reassuring smile, to which Sirius returned a smirk.

“You mean I’m… _siriusly_ good?” He laughed at his own joke, and Remus rolled his eyes as he picked up his own guitar.

“Someday, you’ll get tired of that,” said Remus, but Sirius shook his head.

“I _siriusly_ doubt that.” The grin on his face hadn’t moved since he started making the puns, but this one managed to coax a laugh out of Remus.

“God. Alright, well, I mean, I have a couple of ideas for tweaking it if you want to? You don’t _need_ to, but –“

“No, mate, absolutely! It’s what I’m here for,” Sirius remarked, and Remus was slightly taken aback at that. Sirius Black was known for being a sarcastic git, so an earnest display was rare.

“Oh, okay – yeah, sure! Alright,” Remus sat back, holding his own guitar and starting to go through the song alongside Sirius. Before they knew it, minutes became hours, and by the time it was midnight the rain outside was pouring, the wind was howling and there were the sounds of thunder far off. Remus looked up and outside as Sirius yawned.

“Sirius, you can’t ride home in this… and you look exhausted. You can just stay over,” he remarked, feeling slightly sheepish all of a sudden – why? Sirius just nodded and set his guitar down beside him, rubbing his eyes.

“That’d be great, thanks, mate,” he remarked, too tired to have any of the hesitation that Remus did. It looked like he was leaning over to lay on the couch, but Remus shook his head.

“The couch is too uncomfortable to sleep on. You can have my bed, I’ll just sleep in Dad’s room,” Remus spoke up, and Sirius sat back up. After a second, a devious smirk reappeared on his face.

“Oh, yeah? With your laptop?” he asked. Remus very promptly began to go red.

“… On second thought, you’re fine to ride home,” he bit back, but there was the ghost of a smile on his face nonetheless. Sirius laughed and stood up, clapping a hand down on Remus’ shoulder.

“Relax, mate, I’m kidding,” said Sirius.

“You git,” Remus laughed small, before gesturing down a narrow hallway. “My room’s down there.”

“I know,” Sirius replied, “… ‘Night, Remus.” He smiled and gave Remus’ shoulder a squeeze before heading down the hallway. Remus tried to ignore the warmth that seemed to radiate from his shoulder as he too went off to bed.

* * *

 

 ** _8 th December – _ ** _Shit. Shit shit shit. It’s today. Today’s the bloody day and I never get nervous but I’m nervous. I know exactly why I’m nervous too, that’s the worst part. Maybe we can just make a hasty getaway before the slow dances start. But then we won’t get paid. Shit. Now or never, I guess. Maybe he won’t get it. But I know that if I really didn’t want him to get it… god, shut up Sirius. – S._

 

The beginning of Managing Mischief’s set at the St. Brutus School went as well as it could have, considering the school. The pupils were, of course, teenagers. And teenagers are, invariably, rowdy. But they had done well enough, Sirius already had a throng of girls pining after him, so much so that he and the rest of the band members had to hole up on the staff room while they took their break before the slow songs and the winding down of the disco. Sirius was sitting on his own, looking relatively nervous and every so often allowing himself a glance towards Remus, who for once looked the calmer of the two. He was talking to James, but their conversation was interrupted by Peter bursting back into the room, wide-eyed.

“Oh, my god…” Peter brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“What, what’s happened?” James asked, and Peter dropped his hand with a sigh.

“I just wanted to go to the _bathroom,_ ” he whined, slumping down in a seat across from Sirius. “Since when have high school kids been shagging? None of _us_ ever got a shag in school, for crying out loud.”

“Speak for yourself,” James muttered, but Remus reached over to lightly smack him in the arm.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Peter,” said Remus, and Peter nodded shakily.

“Thanks, mate… I mean, I suppose I didn’t really have to see it… but boy, I had to hear it…” Peter gave a little shudder, and Remus winced.

“Again. I’m sorry,” Remus glanced up at the clock before nodding small. “Right. Time to go back out.”

“Already? Really?” Sirius asked, looking right at Remus. Remus looked back at him, and it wasn’t hard to see the fright in his eyes.

“Mmhm… It’ll be fine, Sirius,” Remus tried to reassure him, and James looked over with a nod as well.

“Yeah, mate, Remus said your song was awesome. You’ll nail it, some kids will fall in love, and Peter will have to hear them bonking next time he takes a piss and it’ll all be thanks to you!” James smirked but Peter frowned deeply.

“Thanks, James. Thank you for the support, after all I’ve done for you.” Peter huffed, though there was a small smirk on his face.

“Ooh, you’re right, what would I do if you weren’t around being a pain in my arse?” James asked, batting his eyelids. Peter shook his head again and stood up, walking over to Sirius.

“C’mon, mate. You’ve got this. It’s one song, you’ll be fine,” Peter reached out to pat Sirius’ back, and he nodded and got up with a fortifying breath in.

“You’re right, you’re right. One song, _just_ a song,” he managed to mutter, only giving Remus the barest glance that the other man didn’t even really notice. He stood up and they went to head back for the gymnasium, Peter and James going a little faster for a reason unknown to their other two bandmates. It left Remus with Sirius, and they were walking in silence until Sirius spoke up.

“… We’ll always be mates, no matter what, yeah?” Sirius asked, seemingly out of the blue. Remus looked confused and concerned all in one.

“Of course we will… what’s going on?” Remus asked.

“I – Nothing. Nothing. I’m just… pre-song jitters. Stupid things coming out of my huge gob, it’s fine,” Sirius shook his head, but Remus steadied him with a hand on the shoulder and a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll be fine, Sirius. You’ve got this. Your tune is good, and I know your lyrics are always good. It’s going to be great,” Remus smiled, and some of Sirius’ stress melted away. They’d always be mates, he thought the song was going to be great, maybe it would be fine. Maybe.

They entered the gymnasium from an entrance which put them right behind the stage they had set up in there for the occasion. James and Peter were already waiting, and Remus went to stand by them as Sirius took a deep breath. There was some feedback from the mic, and he heard a teacher announcing that it was time for the winning couple to take the floor.

“They’ve just finished the awards… all the couples are going to head on out, that means you go out too, Sirius,” James leant forward to pat Sirius’ shoulder. He nodded, looking back at his bandmates, but really focusing on Remus.

“… Here’s hoping the song isn’t absolute shit,” he remarked, managing to put on one of his trademark smirks before going to walk up the stairs. Once he was up there, he saw only three couples moving to dance at first. But once he picked up his guitar, at least four of the girls who had become his makeshift fan club for the night found partners to dance with. By the time he took another deep breath and started to strum, there was at least twenty students out there, and more were on the move. Here went nothing. The chords were simple but he had almost perfected them – it was stripped back and acoustic, just his voice and the guitar. His bandmates eagerly listened from backstage to hear the words their lead singer had been hiding from them. He began to sing, in a voice which seemed, like the rest of the song, relatively stripped back but remarkably strong.

 

 _I see your eyes_  
_And how you think they disguise_  
_The way you feel_

 _I see the night_  
_Comin' in, and you and I_  
_Both know it's real,_  
_We know it's real,_

 _I know you're scared, babe, but_  
_I've got you and_  
_I know somehow we'll survive_

 

James, Peter and Remus were all happy with the song – it fit the disco surprisingly well. None of these students wanted a waltz to dance to, just something of a little bit of a slower tempo to shuffle their feet to in a vague excuse to get handsy with their partner. James mimed an _ok_ symbol with his hand at his bandmates, who nodded and smiled as Sirius continued with the song and hit its chorus.

 

 _Don't look up,_  
_Just look at me,_  
_Right here, right now,_  
_What will be will be,_  
_I wish I could tell you, oh,_  
_I wish you knew,_  
_That the moon has got_  
_Nothing on you_

 

James and Peter’s eyes flicked to Remus.

Remus froze.

Surely it was coincidence, right?

Oh, how he _did not want it to be coincidence._

Sirius continued singing, and once he got past the first chorus he seemed more confident. It was all laid bare now – either Remus had understood and was currently processing, or it had gone over his head. Either way, he couldn’t stop now, and the words kept coming.

 

 _So stay with me,_  
_And we'll see what the night_  
_Has got in store_

 _If it lets us be,_  
_We can sing and scream until_  
_Our throats are sore,_  
_So very sore,_

 _I know you're scared, babe, and_  
_So was I, but now,_  
_I’d never say goodbye_

 

James and Peter had been staring at Remus throughout the whole verse, and eventually Remus looked back at them. His eyes were wide and almost watery, and James could barely suppress a grin. Remus made a pointing motion to himself, mouthing out the word _me?_ James gave a little inaudible laugh, and he and Peter nodded intensely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And well, to everyone but Sirius and Remus, it was.

 

 _Don't look up,_  
_Just look at me,_  
_Right here, right now,_  
_What will be will be,_  
_I wish I could tell you, oh,_  
_I wish you knew,_  
_That the moon has got_  
_Nothing on you_

 

Sirius found that, the longer the song went on, the better he felt. The _freer_ he felt. He felt so fine that by the time he got to the part he’d been the most nervous about, he almost forgot its weight.

 

 _Oh, I'm not scared, 'cause the_  
_Skies above, can't take_  
_Away the fact that I'm in love…_

 

Sirius strummed one note with the last word, both his voice and guitar trailing off. Remus gave an audible gasp, and Peter instinctually reached out to grab his arm, leaning up.

“You’re alright, mate,” he murmured, “bit bloody rude of him to tell you like this, huh?” Remus couldn’t even manage a nod, just completely fixated on the small sliver of Sirius he could see from beyond the curtain.

 

 _Don't look up,_  
_Just look at me,_  
_Right here, right now,_  
_What will be will be,_  
_I wish I could tell you, oh,_  
_I wish you knew,_  
_That the moon has got_  
_Nothin’_  
_Oh, it's got absolutely nothin'_  
_Oh, the moon has got_  
_Nothing_  
_On you._

 

As the song finished, Sirius grinned, and all the couples broke apart to applaud. Peter and James, as they had throughout the whole song, were still staring at Remus, but it was James who remembered that they had one last song to perform to close the night. His eyes widened and he elbowed Peter, who went to rush up the stairs. He hung back for a second, holding Remus’ arm.

“Come on, one more song then you can kick that sap Sirius’ arse,” James laughed, and Remus nodded, wide-eyed. He could barely remember walking up the stairs and grabbing his guitar for the final song. Sirius wasn’t quite brave enough to look at him, and in his dazed state forgot to announce what he was supposed to. So, somewhat awkwardly, Peter took over.

“Uh… we’ve been Managing Mischief! We have one more song for you, and uh… we do parties! Tell your parents to book us!”

Silence.

Then an _uproarious_ cheer.

James grinned from behind his drum set, raising his arms high above his head and starting to smack his drum sticks together.

“Five, six, _five six seven eight!_ ”

* * *

 

 ** _8 th December – _ ** _I’m writing this in a loo cubicle because I’m too worried about talking to Remus. I’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes, waiting for the kids to clear out. I think they’re all gone – I hear someone coming though. A stu –_

“Sirius, you great git, are you in here?”

Sirius took a deep breath and emerged from the cubicle to see James standing in the bathroom, grinning and reaching forward for his arm.

“You absolute _wuss,_ come on, somethin’ to show you,” James all but pulled Sirius out of the bathroom, and the lanky Sirius had no chance against the athletic build of James. Once they emerged from the bathroom, he was met with a gym that was entirely empty apart from the four of them and all the rubbish that had been left behind by the students. Across the gym, in front of the stage, Peter was standing in front of Remus, apparently giving him some sort of pep talk.

“ _Oi!_ Peter!” James called out, and Peter turned around to see him and Sirius.

“Oh! Sorry!” Peter rushed over to the stage, and it was then that Sirius noticed the small CD player that usually lived in James’ spare room sitting right there. Peter hit play, and a slow song faintly began to echo around the gym. James grinned wider, and Peter gave a quick thumbs up before climbing onto the stage, starting to move some of their equipment out.

“I think you have some business to attend to. Peter and I will load up all the gear. You… be good to him,” James added before clicking his tongue and running off behind the stage.

And then it was just them. Sirius stared at Remus. Remus stared at Sirius.

Slowly, Sirius began to walk over to Remus, looking almost as sheepish as he had before he’d performed the song. He eventually made it right over to the other man, taking a quick breath in.

“… Remus, I –“

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asked, possibly more abruptly than he’d asked anything in his life.

“I – wh – yes –“

“Okay I’m gonna kiss you now–“

And Remus reached out to grab Sirius’ face in his hands, cupping his jaw as he leant down to kiss him firmly, almost desperately. Sirius’ hands came around to Remus’ back, and they grasped at the back of Remus’ charity store suit jacket as he kissed Remus back just as hard. Remus’ hand made its way up into Sirius’ hair, and Sirius’ hand made its way dangerously close to Remus’ arse before they both heard the same thing at the same time.

“James! _James!_ ”

The not-at-all-a-whisper carried all the way from Peter to Remus and Sirius, and they turned their heads towards him, still holding one another.

“What, Peter? I – _Oh,_ ” James walked over to Peter before looking to Remus and Sirius, realising that their cover had been blown. They four of them all stared at one another before James and Peter made their moves.

“About time!” James cried, and Peter wolf-whistled before they both scuttled back behind the stage. Neither Remus nor Sirius could hold back their snickers of laughter, and Remus let go of Sirius’ face only as he made a move to rest it against Remus’ chest. Sirius gave a great sigh of relief, and Remus went to put his arms around him.

“… You couldn’t have just asked me out like a _normal_ person, could you?” Remus asked, and Sirius buried his face in Remus’ chest for a moment, almost seeming embarrassed. After that moment, he pulled back a little to better look at the taller man.

“Remus, when have I _ever_ been normal?” he asked, and Remus shrugged.

“True, true,” he acquiesced, “I suppose I could have asked _you._ ”

“Ah, yes,” Sirius replied quickly, “it’s _your_ fault. I absolve myself of all blame.” Remus gave a laugh and shook his head.

“You can absolve yourself of blame _if_ you dance with me.” Remus looked sown at Sirius, and he seemed to put two and two together. Sirius looked at Remus’ face, then at the CD player, which was playing almost agonisingly slow music.

“… You want me to slow dance with you? _Me?_ ” Sirius asked. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Hey, which one of us professed our love through a song referring to a childhood nickname today, hm?” Remus asked. Sirius paused, looked like he was going to say something but then backtracked.

“ _Fine._ But only because it’s you,” Sirius remarked, getting his arms into a more appropriate slow dancing position.

“ _Thank you,_ ” Remus gave a little chuckle, bringing his arms around Sirius as well.

“… But I get to squeeze your arse if I get bored.” Sirius asserted. Remus laughed again, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Whatever keeps you amused, Sirius,” said Remus as the two of them slowly began to do little more but sway to the music.

“Well, amused, aroused, they’re easily interchangeable,” Sirius replied, and he could almost feel Remus’ eyes widening without even looking at him. It was Sirius’ turn to laugh now.

“I feel like we should _try_ to be more appropriate in a school,” said Remus.

“Yeah, well… when else are we going to get time alone?” Sirius asked, before frowning small. “And by time alone, I mean time with Peter _I can see you there Pettigrew and I will end you –"_  Remus held Sirius a little tighter in an attempt to soothe him, but he heard Peter’s far off giggle as well.

“Hey, hey… my dad is still not home,” Remus reminded Sirius, who stopped swaying immediately. He looked up at Remus, who looked back at him. They stood, silent, still and staring at one another for a good few seconds. They then both turned, rushing over to the stage, where James and Peter were packing up the last of the things. Sirius eagerly piped up.

“Hey, so, uh, we want to get this stuff packed up quick, mate, uh – we’re really tired, we want to – y’know, just get home and –“ James reached into his pocket to grab the keys to their somewhat shared van, tossing them to Sirius.

“I already called Lily to come and help us transport the rest of the stuff. Go on. You and Remus look _real tired,_ ” James smirked.

“I could _kiss you_ James Potter,” Sirius grasped the keys and symbolically kissed his closed fist containing them.

“Should I be offended at that?” Remus asked. Sirius shook his head, as an excited yet calm glee flashed in his eyes.

“Nope. But you should _definitely_ come with me.” And with that, Sirius grasped Remus’ hand with his own and the two left the gym hastily, hand in hand.

* * *

 

 ** _9 th December – _** _So, here we are. The gig is done, the song was sung… and I think I have a boyfriend. If the fact that he’s sleeping next to me is any indication of that, then he’s most definitely my boyfriend. We didn’t even do anything last night. Jokes aside, we were exhausted by the time we got back here. Don’t get me wrong, I kissed the hell out of that face, but then we just kind of… went to lie down in bed. Talked. Held hands until we fell asleep. God, how sappy. The slow dancing has changed me._

_~~Siriusly~~ Seriously though. I’m so glad this happened. I’m kind of mad I didn’t just ask him out, but this’ll make a great story. It made a great story, after all. And well… I can confirm it, the words are true. The moon really does have nothing on him._


End file.
